Little Heart Shaped Scars
by The Knife In Your Side
Summary: Holding the tears that threatened to spill, I ran up the staircase and straight for the bathroom. I just couldn't let anybody see my cry, because that's not what usually happened. I didn't cry yesterday, so I can't cry today, because that would be change, and in such a household as this, changing is forbidden. But still, the tears fall and I wonder again how it came to this...
1. Prologue: 1981

_Prologue: 1981_

It was raining, always raining.

And the night was dark, although the moon shone; it seemed to shine with a little less integrity than usual. As if it knew the horrors that had come about under its silvery veil, and was in abstaining shame.

But of course I didn't notice; I'd always been very unperceptive, always looking but never seeing. Never understanding, never wishing too. Overly content with my mundane life of late night television, frozen dinners and short black coffee.

Of course I knew more about the unnatural then most, but I remained entirely ordinary to the point that I was proud of the fact.

But it wasn't always so proud; so dull and so dreary. There was a time where my eyes were still a bright emerald and mesmerised by the world, but now they've become so very dull, the colour of swamp water. I always think that when she died that night, her eyes were still as bright.

I also like to think I'm too old to change, but of course that's not true. Still, even as a lie, it's a beautiful lie – one that I rely on to keep surviving in a life where every day is a grey repeat of the last.

That was until my nephew was left on the grey stone of our front door. I had just managed to get my little Dudley to stop crying at the lighting that struck the sky. A younger version of myself would have found it brilliant and terrifying, but all I felt then was annoyance.

"Who rings bells at this time of night," My husband said, a perfectly ordinary middle-aged man.

"Someone without sense, that's for sure," I replied, walking down the staircase. The both of us walked towards the door with grimaces on our faces. We didn't like uninvited guests.

Vernon opened the door, "Oh," he said plainly, "It's a baby. I don't remember ordering a baby," then proceeded to try and close the door, but I stopped him, seeing the fresh cut on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. A drop of blood mixed with rain ran down his forehead.

"Wait, there's a letter," I said, reaching down to pick up the bundle.

"Watch out, darking, who knows where it came from. It may have fleas or something," my husband commented, wrinkling his nose at the infant in disgust. Vernon, much like me, also had a strong dislike for change.

Ignoring his fear of vermin, I lay the baby on the sofa chair and plucked the nite out of the folds of its wrappings.

"Petunia, that's my chair," Vernon complained.

I sighed, "Just sit on the couch,"

"You know that couch hurts my back," he spoke with distain, but alas still sat down with a huff.

"It'll only be for a minute, darling," I said airily as my attentions were focused on something else entirely. Flipping over the letter, my manicured fingernails broke a strangely familiar scarlet wax seal.

_Dear Mrs Petunia Dursley,_

_I regret to inform you of the tragedies that have befallen this night, but of course, I have no other options. Your dear sister, Lily and her husband, James (who you may or may not be familiar with) have been killed by the greatest evil to ever befall the Wizarding World. I will spare you the horrific details, and instead inform you that you are the sole remaining family member to their son, Harry, who is now an orphan._

_But know, he has magical blood running through his veins, and raising him will be difficult at times. If there are any questions, please send me a letter and I will do my best to help._

_Kind Regards,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

I remember the feeling that hit my like a wave, how confused I was; so torn between grief and anger. I let the letter drop onto the kitchen counter.

"I will be right back, look after him," I told my husband and he nodded gruffly, continuing to watch the news.

Suppressing the tears that threatened to spill, I rushed up the staircase and straight towards the bathroom.

I just couldn't let anybody see my cry, because that's not what usually happened. I did not cry yesterday, so I cannot cry today, because that would be change, and in such a household as this, changing is forbidden.

Locking the door behind me, I burst into bouts of ugly sobs. Looking at myself in the mirror, I wondered what I ever did for my world to become like this?

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**So yes, I hope you like it, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter One: 1971

**Thank you **_**Chibi-Lill**_** for being my first reviewer, it's greatly appreciated!**

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_Chapter One: 1971_

My mother had always had a brilliant smile. One that lit up any room she entered. My little sister Lily had inherited that same smile alongside her mop of dark red curls, but I had always been more like my father with a sullen reserved smile and thin mousy brown hair.

"Who's up for pancakes?" she grinned at us, setting the plate down in the middle of the table.

"Thank you, Mother," both Lily and I smiled up at her, eyeing them hungrily.

Mother ignored me and turned to Lily with a beaming smile, "Well it's your 11th birthday,"

I frowned to myself although I didn't really blame her. I knew Lily was ignored on my birthday also, so there really wasn't anything to complain about. So long as there were pancakes.

"Hey, Lily, there's mail for you," our Father threw it on the table in front of her. My sister stared at it curiously before opening it, "Maybe it's another birthday card huh?"

I rolled my eyes; she'd only received one card and that was from the weird boy down the road with greasy hair. Dad had been teasing her about it all morning.

Lily flipped the letter over to see a scarlet wax seal; carefully she opened it up with her dainty little fingers and pulled out the letter. She read it in her head, face grew brighter and brighter.

"It wasn't a trick! Oh this is wonderful!" Lily exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

I stared at her curiously, "Who was right? Give me that," I said and she handed it to me. It read as follows;

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Evens,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September first. We await your owl by no later than July the thirty-first._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress._

"Well that's entirely ridiculous! What's a Mugwump?" I questioned, sending Lily a confused look, "Maybe it's from your greasy-haired friend?"

She rolled her eyes and snatched the letter back, "No, no Severus wouldn't write this, he did say one would come though… and his hair isn't that greasy!"

"It's like tar," I sneered and her cheeks reddened in anger, "But what if he is playing a trick on you? What proof do you actually have?"

Lily opened her mouth to retaliate but closed it again, "I don't need to prove anything to you,"

"Knew you couldn't," I snorted, throwing the letter back down on the table.

She pursed her lips, "I never said that!"

"Petunia darling, it's Lily's birthday, don't provoke her please," our mother mused without looking away from cooking breakfast.

I scowled and folded my arms across my chest, "S'not my fault she's being ridiculous,"

With a tired sigh, she put down her spatula, "Oh and just what is so ridiculous?"

Lily took her chance to speak up, "Remember how I told you I was a witch? Well, here my letter! Didn't I tell you!" she waved it around with pride.

Mother walked over, swapping weighted looks with father and grasped the letter from her hands. Her face seemed to grow more troubled as she read on.

"Lily…" she started, "I know this is a fun game you've been playing with your friend… but it's important to remember the difference between pretend and reality," she ruffled her hair with a slight smile.

But my little sisters smile faltered, "I'm not a child anymore – I don't play pretend! I'm really and truly a witch Mother!" she slammed her palm down on the table and the window shattered.

Our eyes were wide and mouths agape as Lily smiled gleefully, "See! I told you so!"

But Father ignored her throwing the morning paper down onto the table, "Who the hell threw a rock at our window!" he yelled, "Bloody hell!"

Lily's grin dropped, "N-No that was me dad! I did it!"

He kneeled down to her level and placed his hands on her shoulders with a warm smile, "Look darling, I'm sorry, but although you are a very talented girl I do not believe you're a witch,"

"I am daddy! I can prove it!" she threw her hand up in frustration and leaved across the table to grab a flower from the vase.

I laughed as she started at the flower. Nothing happened.

"Darling–" our Mother started but was cut off as the flower petals began to float upwards. We all stared in wonder as they flew around the room creating different shapes, "I-I-I don't understand…"

"It's simple; I am a witch," Lily smiled as they drifted towards the ground.

And from that moment on everything changed; it was not only birthdays that I was ignored but every single day.

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My mother grasped Lily's hand in hers, looking so very proud. The three of them had been sitting very snuggly next to each other on the couch, commenting with things such as 'I always knew our Lily was special' and 'Well if anybody were destined to be a magical, it's our Lily' which made me feel sick as I stood in the doorway, completely forgotten.

Done with being ignored, I thumped my way up the stairs. Hoping the sound of would make them wake up and see that they have another daughter. I was disappointed.

Slamming my bedroom door behind me in anger, I picked up my homework to try and distract myself, but the attempt was futile; it only served to bore and anger me further, but alas I persisted… for another few minutes.

Throwing the book away, I collapsed head first into my bed with a groan. What made her a witch and not me? What was different? I had always been the better at math and science, even though she excelled at English and Latin. Maybe that was it, you needed to be good at English so you could say the spells or something!

I decided semi-subconsciously that I would attempt to better my language skills. Maybe if I did that before September 1st they'd let me in!

Without any more thought to the ludicrous plan, I ransacked my desk for paper and pencil and began writing;

_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore the Mugwump_,

_My name is Petunia Evens and my sister Lily Evens has just got her letter to go to your school because she's magic. I just want to know why she is magic and not me? I promise I'll get my grades up if I need to by September 1st! _

_It's just I really don't like my school right now, the girls their tease me and pull my hair because I've quite small and thin. It makes it really hard to concentrate in class with them there also._

_I really don't want to trouble you anymore as you're probably busy but I really hope you get this letter._

_Thank You Sir,_

_Petunia Evens._

Reading it through a second time to check my spelling, I folded it up and snuck back downstairs – ignoring my parents who were still crowding Lily – into the study. Finding an envelope in dad's desk and some postal stickers in mum's, I slid the letter in and put on three stickers just in case.

And with a small smile, I shoved it back in my pocket. Content.

I would go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with her, and we would both be magical and it'll be okay.

Everything will be okay.

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